


Pull My Tie

by Shatterpath



Series: First and Third [7]
Category: Agent Carter (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Dress Up, F/F, Idiots in Love, Roleplay, goofing off, happy Peggy, sassy Angie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-05
Updated: 2015-03-05
Packaged: 2018-03-16 11:27:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3486524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shatterpath/pseuds/Shatterpath
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A game of dress up gives our ladies some carnal recreation. Howard is completely amused with their flirting and shenanigans.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pull My Tie

**Author's Note:**

> A special thank you to the Benny Goodman (and later, Glenn Miller) & His Orchestra collection on Spotify. It's all I listened to for this whole story!
> 
> I'm really enjoying the 'verse I'm building for these two (and Howard & Jarvis too) even as some will be unhappy with where it eventually leads in the Epic this belongs to. Ominous! I was also able to squeeze a decent chunk of My-verse canon, which makes me happy for world-building.
> 
> It's been ages since I've had such fun with a femslash couple, not to mention written them smut.

The heat in the old hanger was oppressive, what with it being August in Jersey, but Howard's beloved lab was tolerable with the air conditioning droning away. He didn't care for the noise, but it was better than being a melted puddle.

The tap of Peggy's distinctive stride made him smile to himself, though he didn't look up until the radio suddenly went from quiet to distracting. Peggy slid in with a saucy twirl to the beat of Benny Goodman and His Orchestra, cradling her beloved red Stratoliner over her forehead, wide grin flashing in the shadow. It had been the brightly colored Stetson that gave him the creative push to do something about Angie's besotted rambling on, and he had to say that he was proven to be a genius once more.

"Don't you look snazzy, boss lady."

Prancing like some prize cockerel at a dance-off for big bucks, Peggy whirled around him, shakin' and shimmying with pure delight to the bouncy notes of brass and drums. Howard couldn't help but tap his foot along, work forgotten for the moment and no explosions imminent for now. The darkly electric blue linen suit looked amazing on her, masculine-broad across the shoulders, but fitted flatteringly over that gorgeous rack and muscled waist to flare out over her hips and flanks. The slacks were spacious for easy movement, drawn down to narrow cuffs and her elegant, shiny high-heeled pumps gave the ensemble just the right flare.

"Dance with me, you fool," she laughed, sweeping Howard up like some dapper young stud on the make and he was far to amused to object, even if he was used to leading. When had this singular personality he adored like the big sister he'd never had, ever steered him wrong? Some part of him not caught up in Peggy's uncharacteristic euphoria was pleased to note that the shop had gotten the red of the snugly-collared shirt dyed just the right shade.

"Figures you'd make even that ridiculous tie work," Howard chuckled at the palm tree painted on the white silk knotted carefully at Peggy's throat. They were getting the hang of it now, Howard not fighting Peggy's lead, because his trust in her was absolute and her wild grin entirely infectious.

"It's a terrible tie, but the 'wife' left it with this ensemble, so I could only assume she has plans for me in which you colluded."

"Oh yeah, she's got plans for you alright, peacock." He commented with a dirty leer and shifted his hands to grab the tie even as Angie's teasing voice carried over the radio. 

"Hey there, peacock, you're missing some feathers."

In an instant, Howard was forgotten, which of course had been the point of all this. Though he kept Peggy still for a moment by his grip on the necktie, snugging it up under the red collar. "It looks less stupid if you don't wear it so damn loose. Did that back in the Army too."

Despite being thoroughly distracted, Peggy still smacked him lightly on the arm before giving to the pull to her lover as though a filing to magnet.

The whole wing was empty save the three of them, the several handfuls of recruits busy elsewhere, and Howard had every intention of keeping himself locked up and quite busy for the day. The lovebirds, always having to be so careful how they acted, how they touched and looked at one another, they more than deserved some R&R. The neophyte SHIELD facility in the recently-defunct Fort Lehigh was secure enough now to offer that and he'd been thrilled to help out on Angie's plans. He liked the sassy young woman and couldn't be more thrilled with the gradual change that had come over his old pal, how she had grown happier and more content. Love was a good look on Peggy Carter and no one deserved it more.

Sheathed in elegant, champagne silk, Angie looked like a million bucks. She enjoyed gleefully taking endless advantage of Howard's willingness to add her to the endless outpouring of stylish goodies he showered his women with. Heck, Howard would freely admit that he had come to rely on her opinions on fashion, entertainment and even social diplomacy. If only she'd let him pay her for consulting work! She wouldn't even stop with the same rent she'd paid at the Griffith, stubbornly unmovable that she would not be a freeloader. Howard had given up whining about the pittance and just let it accumulate wherever Jarvis stashed it.

Smile warm and adoring, Angie met the always enamored Peggy halfway, briefly stopping any advances with a bossy hand so that she could reach up and tuck the long pheasant feather she held into the blue band on the crimson hat.

"There ya go, good lookin'," Angie drawled out with her accent heavy with emotion. Wrapped up in each other's arms, the women were only half aware of responding to the music, bodies moving together with easy grace.

The affection between them had run true since day one; casual pals making their way to trust and then to love. The day would come when Howard himself would hold them as the gold standard to aim for when love finally came beating down his door. They, every bit as much as Steve, had taught him to be a better man. And Steve would have desperately wanted Peggy to be happy, find any scrap of it she could. Sure, the big guy might have been a little taken aback by Angie, but the passing similarities between the mouthy small-fry Brooklynites were unmistakable.

"So, boss lady," Angie murmured, stroking that warm, soft place at the base of Peggy's neck, left exposed by her hair pulled back into a pony tail. "Think you might take your secretary back to the office for a private meeting?"

When she met the quiet Englishwoman all that time ago, Angie would not have guessed as to the endless variety of her smiles. They were a language all their own. This one was adoring with a distinctly filthy edge that could always get a squirm. "A private meeting, hmm?"

Oh, what that voice did to her, every bit as devastating as that smile, the competent hands, the whole damn package. Howard felt like he was intruding, despite it being his lab, but figured trying to slip out would be more disruptive than just staying put until he had to shoo them out. Not because he wanted to, but because Peggy would do something awful to him if he peeked.

"You do seem to be rather overdressed for a mere work meeting."

"Gotta impress the boss," Angie simpered playfully, pressing full length against her grinning lover.

"Oh, you've no fear of that, darlin'."

Even Howard had to chuckle at the abrupt Harlem drawl that replaced Peggy's normally crisp English accent.

"You're getting good at that."

"Ugh, will you two get out? You're makin' me look bad."

Giggling at Howard's entirely feigned rant, Angie slipped a finger under the gaudy tie to pull it from beneath the vest and fisted the silk up over her shoulder to stride out. Having no choice but to follow the noose around her neck, Peggy saucily tipped that red Stetson at Howard with a leer. The playfulness, hard won, warmed him and gave him hope that anything was possible. So he called out as the door slowly eased shut in their wake.

"You birds have fun now!"

~ * ~ * ~

It took some effort to not trip up over their moving feet and Peggy placed her hands on Angie's hips for balance against the pull on the leash around her neck. A leash she'd handed over willingly long before the silk metaphor slung negligently over Angie's shoulder. To enticed by all the bare skin, only narrow straps holding up the dress' racy décolletage, Peggy nuzzled kisses over the ball of shoulder, watching Angie's smile, even as she never turned her head.

For all that they might balk and squirm over Howard's monetary assets, Angie reveled in the random gifts, particularly the clothes. She might not be a starlet yet, but she certainly enjoyed dressing like one!

"You look amazing," Peggy murmured between kisses, huffing out a breath when Angie pulled her into her own office, slammed the door and shoved the larger woman against the heavy wood and glass. That hungry, predatory look did all sorts of twisty things to Peggy's insides, particularly as the sea-blue eyes raked over her own costume for the day.

"So do you, Peggy. So do you."

With a swing to her hips exaggerated to catch the eye, Angie sashayed over to the radio to once more bring in the strains of jazz and big band before continuing over to the huge, heavy desk. Peggy had fought and railed vociferously against the bloody thing. Yes, it was a hand-me-down, yes it had been sitting in storage since before the war and was going to waste, but the dratted monstrosity was ostentatious. For the sheer scale alone she would have balked, not to mention the intricate carvings on the heavy walnut panels and posts that made up its skirting. Though once it was polished and given a darker stain, Peggy had to admit the thing gave this office a somber weight that had been lacking.

Besides, not even Peggy at her most serious could deny the filthy ideas the wide expanse of shiny dark wood cooked up. How delicious Angie's slim swath of paleness looked against the ponderous darkness of the gleaming wooden surface, the sturdy leather chair behind it acting like a backdrop. Another antique from storage that stood out amid the military trappings left behind at Fort Lehigh as per almost-retired-but-not-quite Colonel Chester Phillips. He'd been tickled in his own gruff way to be asked to join the fledgling SHIELD and have as safe a place as possible to lock down the insanity wrought by people like Schmidt and Stark. With the military busy with returning GIs and rebuilding far too much of the world, they had been happy to let a few decorated veterans and federal agents take over the mojo and rayguns locked in their innocuous crates.

None of that was actively on Peggy's mind, merely another set of notes in the constant hum of activity in the back of her skull. Right now, she had an enticing slip of silk and sex looking at her with hot, kohl-rimmed eyes, a playful, sharp smile playing around the rich, dark pink of that smart mouth. Tossing the hat onto the nearby rack and popping the jacket's buttons as she stepped forward, Peggy relished the wandering eyes watching her hands work at the bright silver fasteners. Halting just toe to toe with her lover, Peggy dawdled over the simpler blue buttons on the waistcoat.

"So, all this urgency for a meeting, Miss Martinelli. You must have something important on your mind."

The statement might have achieved more seriousness if Peggy hadn't sounded quite so… growly. A delicate shudder chased over Angie's heightened nerves, making her insides tighten and her nipples peak up under the thin silk. What this woman's voice could do…

"Umm, yes, director-- I mean, Madame President-- there's something that's come to my attention."

Angie briefly made a face at herself for letting the game slip for a moment, but shook it off, making Peggy grin again. They'd settled on the silly title to keep the mood light and create some distance from the reality this room was to contain once SHIELD was truly up and running.

There had been a lot of discussions on the raw structure of SHIELD, no one wanting any overt military trappings to remind them of the devastations of the war still too close or the captain they all still missed. Nor did anyone want any reminders of the loss of Chief Dooley or the smarmy bastard that had taken his place and made their lives even more miserable than when he'd been second in command. So Angie had tossed out 'director' and it stuck. That she could privately tease Peggy about the roundabout theater and Hollywood connotations was merely a delicious bonus. 

Heck, it had been some of those private discussions on how the fledgling department would work that had led to the fun and games heating up this room. Both of them knew they would never have a chance like this again, the base empty save Howard locked away in his lab and the skeleton crew of agents patrolling the sprawling grounds now empty of soldiers gone to other bases and home to their families. The ghosts resided surprisingly gently here, a comforting presence to those who remembered their time here

Letting herself get caught up in the game once more, Peggy let her gaze rove over her wiry lover, thrilled again to see that she no longer looked quite so painfully thin. Better eating and the diligence to shift dance and natural grace to something more deadly and utilitarian had sculpted the young woman subtly. Not that Peggy would have cared either way, round or twig-thin, she'd love this girl no matter what. 

Small, competent hands curled into Peggy's waistcoat, now hanging open, and she obligingly stepped in close and loomed, Angie leaning back until her entire upper body hung from that sturdy grip.

"I just wanted to make sure you were impressed enough with my work to keep me around."

Neither was sure who spluttered with laughter first, but really, that cheesy femme fatale voice was so wrong. Still chuckling throatily, Peggy kissed her crazy girl, slow and hot and sweet. The slide of a teasing foot up the back of her leg made her hips jerk and Angie murmured wordlessly in appreciation. 

"Being impressed with you is never a problem, Miss Martinelli," Peggy breathed against those pink lips, drinking in the sultry smile crinkling the corners of Angie's beautiful eyes. 

"Mmm, good to know. I wouldn't want to fail my performance exam."

Again, they giggled together, even as Angie laid herself flat, dragging Peggy over her, relishing the solid, strong mass of her. A hard clench of those dancer's legs around blue-clad hips had them nestled close, Peggy happily kissing that feline smirk off Angie's face and wandering a hand down the silk dress to soak up the heat beneath. Together they shrugged and scratched off the fancy jacket and vest, Peggy having to lean away from the drugging heat of Angie's mouth to help fumble at the shirt buttons.

"Leave the tie."

Not one to argue, Peggy left the buttons and distracting caresses in Angie's capable hands as she stroked the fancy silk hose and frilly garters left scandalously exposed by their play, the trailing hem of the dress hiking up further and further as Peggy leaned back over to once again go for kisses. Only to jerk upright, brown eyes round as her hand slipped over the bare skin of Angie's hip and arse.

"Angie! Did come all the way here without your skivvies on?"

Cackling with merriment, Angie held her ribs. "Oh, jeez, English, the look on your face!" A hard grip of strong legs jerked at Peggy's body, shifting that shock-frozen hand to the small of her back. Voice abruptly dropping low and sultry, Angie grinned hotly and rubbed her nethers over the fly of the blue slacks. "I dressed so carefully, Peg, pullin' up these luscious silk stockings and clippin' them in place, knowing how naughty I was bein'. Sat nice and prim and proper in the back of the car and chatted with Mr. Fancy all the way over like there was nothin' untoward and I wasn't bare-assed naked under this thin thing. All the while hopin' I wasn't gonna ruin this fancy silk before I even got here."

Peggy was too caught up under this girl's spell to do more than stand there like an idiot, heartbeat a thundering beat in counterpoint to the arousal burning under her skin. Squirming on the smooth wooden desktop, Angie tugged her disheveled dress teasingly upward like the grand red velvet drapes in a movie house. There was no stopping reverent hands over strong, slender thighs, the tickle of thumb over the ruff of brown hair and the accompanying giggle, long strokes over the flat belly. The rasp of short, red-lacquered nails stopped Angie's squirming for a moment, making her groan and arch, reaching down to grab Peggy's wrists like anchors.

"You drive me insane."

The soft statement might be mistaken for matter-of-fact, but Angie knew better. And there was nothing matter-of-fact about the calloused, elegant hands on her skin, roving sensuously over terrain well-mapped but never tired of. 

"It is a lovely dress," Peggy mused in that same tone. "So elegantly and overtly feminine, as though for a night out on the town, hmmm?"

If Angie hadn't been so caught up in this game as well, that deadpan tone and facial expression might have been a letdown, but honestly, the brunette could read the grocery list and be sexy. The contrast of the man's-style shirt hanging open around her silky white slip and heavy breasts was a delicious bonus as well. Grinning coyly, Angie rubbed her heel-clad feet over Peggy's ass and upper thighs.

"Well, at some later date, I sure wouldn't tell you no. Though the last time we broke in some furniture, you caught me out in greasy coveralls with my hair wrapped up in a scarf, so clearly it's not just the clothes."

"Broke in a piece of furniture? Angie, my love, we nearly wrecked that poor Packard. There are still dents in the bonnet and that tear is still just visible in the backseat, despite Jarvis' best efforts at repair."

"Yeah, poor guy, he still can't look either of us full in the face, can he?"

"Alas, seeing you elbow deep in that poor machine's guts did bring out the animal in me. That was my favorite blouse too."

"Such are the sacrifices that must be made for love," Angie sassed drily and hauled Peggy down to kiss that smirk off her beautiful face before shoving her back upright again. "Now help me get this thing off."

With some struggling and giggling-- not to mention more laughingly scandalized commentary that Angie really was completely bare beneath the dress except for the hose and garters-- the couple had the champagne silk stripped away. Negligently wadding up the expensive garment turned it into a makeshift pillow and Angie could once more revel in her lover's weight and drugging kisses. The rough friction of cloth on her skin and the teasing strip of Peggy's bare belly was a sensuous contrast.

"C'mon, Peg," Angie groaned, breaking character and neither of them giving a damn. "I'm burnin' up here!"

"Poor girl," Peggy chuckled throatily, leaning onto her left elbow so she could skim her right hand down her lover's body, tweaking a nipple and soaking up the squeak and moan. "Did the long drive over here leave you hot and frustrated. Hmm?"

"Yes!" Angie playfully pouted, happily obeying that wandering hand's directive to toss her left leg up over Peggy's shoulder for easier access. "I've been a wet wreck ever since we started talkin' about thi…"

Arching and hissing, Angie lost words as Peggy's familiar touch teased over the soft hairs and into the aching wet so ready for her.

"So you are."

"Smug," Angie managed to grit out, hands caught up in the silky tie and silkier tresses of rich, dark hair to anchor herself. Those deadly, loving fingers stroked and teased, making Angie whine and squirm, Peggy's hooded gaze hot enough to burn.

"You bring out the best in me darling," Peggy flattered, but didn't let Angie get in a word, slipping a pair of fingers deep into that needy heat so the smaller woman's teeth clacked together in a pleasurable grimace. Rocking her hips, Peggy didn't fight the raunchy need dragging her always busy mind away from all of her cares and strife. There was only this girl, only the two of them, the heat and wet and sights and smells and sounds. Angie's free leg hitched higher, crushing down against Peggy's ribs, encouraging the thrusting, head back, cries wanton. Caught up completely, Peggy mouthed those taut neck tendons, the ridged windpipe, vibrating with Angie's cries.

The peak hit abruptly, every powerful muscle in Angie's sleek frame clamping down and Peggy drank up the roughness of it. The brush of thumb over clitty made Angie growl something incoherent and filthy, Peggy chuckling darkly, slowing her thrusting to let her lover coast back to herself. Happy to lay there and soak up the heat between them, she drank up the harshness of their breath, the tremble of those long dancer's legs. When they had been new to being lovers, Peggy would have concerned herself with her weight being suffocating to the smaller woman. Angie has long since disabused her of that notion. Moaning and grumbling, Angie wrapped all four limbs around Peggy as best she could and hugged, pressing kisses to the sweaty hairline.

"So," she tried to say, having to clear her throat harshly before she could continue. "Think you might finally like this desk?" 

Peggy couldn't stop her laughter.

**Author's Note:**

> Some fashion nibblets found online about post war fashions: 1947-1949.  
>  _People anxiously awaited the day when newer types of clothing would be allowed to be distributed. It took quite some time before the U.S. was able to access the same kinds of fashions that were made available in Paris, France or London, England._ (Those contacts of Howard's are so handy here, eh?)  
>  _Men's fashion in the U.S. after the war had changed as well. One of the most dramatic new additions to male fashion introduced after 1947 was the Hawaiian and Carisa shirts. These were first worn on California and Florida beaches, and were made with fabric imprinted with patterns of ocean flora, women, island flowers, or flames._ (The inspiration of the silly tie that now holds a special meaning for both of our lovelies!)
> 
> Story creation convo in IM (edited)  
> Me: I'm thinkin' Angie locking the door to Peggy's Shield office and totally hamming up the slutty secretary bit -- set out a suit and tie that morning for her sexy Director  
> Friend: Peggy would swing between utter mortification and total mirth  
> Me: because you KNOW Angie pulling on Peggy;s tiw would be hot. see? I can't even SPELL for it  
> Friend: Oh, it absolutely would. She might even spare the briefest of seconds of sympathy for Steve because how on earth *are* you supposed to handle a gorgeous woman tugging on your tie?  
> Me: HAHAHAHHAHA -- you crack me up. AND IT'S SO TRUE -- I cannot see Peggy doing drag, she's be rubbish, but a well-fit suit? Fuck yeah -- high waisted, leaning to where the zoot suits went in later years  
> Friend: I think her curves would be the problem  
> Me: rich jewel tones like a blue with a mustard shirt and a red tie -- yeah, there ain't no hiding those curves, sorry -- the WHOLE suit too, vest and all. more layers to get her out of. Angie gets all the benefits of Howard's getting hold of the latest women's fashions, with no strings attached. Please, she keeps that besotted happiness plastered all over his bestie. Lovely and even scandalous from France and beyond are well worth the price. hence, the bikini story that I got a kick out of writing  
> Friend: AND she tells him which of the latest fashion is really, truly uncomfortable which gives him some tips for hte ladies. He can’t commiserate, but he can offer to relieve the problem areas  
> Me: *snort* and make a few more bucks in the process! LOL. and it lets Angie get a killer wardrobe without feeling beholden. she's a consultant, dammit and who the hell else could wear all that tailored stuff?  
> Friend: It takes months of badgering the hell out of her to let him pay her. And even then, she finds a sneaky way around that  
> Me: lol, are you kidding me, she'll still pay rent. it's a pittance, but she's no charity case and no kept woman. not even with Peggy. thankfully, I established her as actually working as an agent in the SSR, then SHIELD.  
> Friend: Yup, exactly. Meanwhile, he feels awful as hell because he’s turning a profit on her advice and it just doesn’t feel right. they work out some compromise (whether the money goes somewhere it’s needed, or whatever)  
> Me: so she's pulling a regular salary. and could be persuaded for her fashion troubles. "Hey, Ange, how's that armored slip workin' out?" "Dunno, no one's shot at me yet, but it's still heavy in the back." "How? You ain't got enough caboose to make the thing heavy!" She'll sass Howard worse than Peggy  
> Friend: Jarvis helpfully reminds him to keep his eyes off of Miss Martinelli’s rear  
> Me: "It's a fitting! A fit-ting. Peggy's not allowed to shoot me over armor." *remembers bullets on vibranium* "Umm..."


End file.
